


Frightened

by hyekyo



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-29 12:17:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyekyo/pseuds/hyekyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaime had told her he doesn’t want to see her now, which is not to say that they were seeing each other to begin with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frightened

**Author's Note:**

> A response to the Jaime/Brienne Shuffled Challenge.
> 
> Inspired by the song You Give Me Something by James Morrison.

Jaime had told her he doesn’t want to see her now, which is not to say that they _were_ seeing each other to begin with. She was not affected, not really, it was just that he had come the night before and had kissed her like he had meant it and had coaxed her to bed. It was not like it was her first time, surely, one fumbling attempt at sex in college counted as her first, though the way Jaime had made her felt that night was something she had never felt before in her entire life.

Though come morning he had been quick to tell her that it was only sex and nothing more, nothing more than a stupid mistake fuelled by alcohol and too much work. He had apologized and she had accepted, and she knew it was the right thing. Accepting had been the adult thing to do and she was an adult, not matter how many years Jaime has on her, she could be an adult too, she had experienced too many things in life to not count as one after all.

 

 

Jaime watched the wench take the last seat, pen and paper in hand, questions ready to be asked as the press conference rolled out. He had been up the whole night, working on the press briefing of the new prime minister. Catelyn Stark had been pulled up from the ranks of the parliamentarians and she had been hesitant to take the government in her hand, to create a new one and they had labored to produce a cabinet within the week, otherwise, they would have come at a stalemate. It had been almost a month since he saw Brienne last, the past month had been a whirlwind of events, from being a small party, they gained a surprisingly huge number of votes, the election had been tough and compromising with other parliamentarians to create a government had drained him, work as a media adviser had never been easy and there were days when he just couldn’t get it, couldn’t understand a single thing, couldn’t meet with Catelyn and her party eye to eye. But it would turn all around and he would be reminded of why he was doing this.

When the last question was asked, he tried to catch up with the tall freckled girl but she was gone the minute he turned around, another chance to work things out gone in an instant.

“You did say you don’t want to see me.” Was what she had told him when he chanced by her at a coffee shop. He had been there first and when she had come walking in, he had stared at her like he hadn’t seen her in a while (which was true, if days during press conferences were counted out), and she had taken it the wrong way and had quickly scrambled to her feet to leave the shop, a curt apology following her initial statement.

 

 

Brienne was expecting Margaery, her colleague, when the doorbell rang. But it was Jaime at her door and he looked nice and perfect and smelled so good, albeit the angry expression on his face, that when he crossed the threshold and pulled her in his arms, mouth tugging at her own lips, tongue seeking hers, hands undoing the buttons on her shirt, she didn’t think much and let him (despite his own command to not see each other again). Jaime had kicked the door closed and his hands tugged at her jeans as he walked her to the bed, the two of them ending on a pile by the floor. He frowned against the kiss and his hands cupped her small breasts through the fabric of her shirt, hurriedly fumbling with the buttons, thumbs caressing and pinching her pebbling nipples, his mouth roughly tracing the line of her jaw down her neck, tongue laving patches of her skin as she turned them around, her clothes roughly thrown aside as he tugged at his own shirt. She straddled him, his cock hard and straining against her, the throbbing she could feel against her moist underwear. He was pulling himself up in an instant, his fingers trailing down to touch her, feel her wanting and ready, waiting and offering and he slid himself inside her as he pressed her against the floor, turning them over, the wood hard and unyielding against her back, his fingers digging deep against her hips, his thrusts angry and fast and hard and she felt a shiver of pain and pleasure in her gut, the sensations bubbling and bubbling, racing from her belly to her toes, and she was unwinding, falling and falling and falling to land on a heap of boneless flesh on the floor.

He followed soon after, his body rocking and rocking slowly as orgasm washed over him and she coaxed him to curl against her. His mouth covered a still aching peak, his tongue flicking languidly to the pink flesh, his hands briefly snaking between her thighs to find her still shivering and wanting. He pulled her closer, his hands cupping her arse as he tangled his legs around her, his mouth catching her earlobe, humming a slow and soft tune that she couldn’t seem to understand as sleep began to haunt her from the corners of her eyes.

 

 

He woke up, found the wench slinking in the dark by the wall. He was quickly on his feet, a gasp torn from Brienne’s throat as he slipped his arms around her, pushed her against the wall, his cock hard and harder still, wanting to feel her all around him, tight and his, _again_. She let out a small noise of protest as her back hit the wall and he grunted. He had come too angry because of work, because of his father, because of Cersei who all wanted him to resign from working with Catelyn. They were all thinking he was playing games, and he was not, he had never felt so certain about anything in his entire life (except his certainty about wanting to fuck the freckled wench) and he believed in Catelyn and in what she represented and he wanted to prove himself to everyone.

“Jaime.” Her words were barely a whisper as he descended to taste her, his mouth and tongue delving deep inside her, the shuddering of her body rendering him harder, the taste of her intoxicating. He let his fingers replace his tongue as he moved back up, mouth catching hers in a sudden intake of breath, letting her taste herself in him, his fingers moving to caress her pulsing nub as he urged her to hook her thighs around him. “You can’t.”

“I can.”

“I’m heavy.” Her words were garbled as he tore a sigh from her lips, his fingers pumping, vigorous, unrelenting and he guided her thighs with his other hand to wrap them around his hips, her weight negligible to him, the feel of her all around him the only thing that mattered.

“Brienne.” He breathed as he pushed into her, hot and demanding, angry and forceful and so tired, tired of all this and his breath hitched as he felt her shudder into her climax, her body shivering and he pushed her tighter against the wall, his hips thrusting and thrusting still, his strength draining as he felt the swell of his high swallow him whole.

 

 

He was gone in the morning and she had almost wept but she was a strong girl and strong girls do not weep; she was not like most girls besides, she was ugly and tall and freckled and a brute of a woman and Jaime Lannister only wanted to fuck and she was the nearest available female. She would have wanted to cuddle in the morning, but cuddling is for pretty girls, she was much uglier in daylight he did tell her once after all.

 

 

He knew she wanted him to stay in the morning but he does not know what to say to her even if he wanted to stay. He knew she deserved something more, so much more, not him, not like this. So he left and it was easier that way and he went back to work, hoping it would consume him so much, too much, it would provide him enough courage to visit her again and fuck her because he wanted her, he wanted her like he had never wanted anyone before. But he was afraid, afraid that it was only his broken self that he could offer, his broken self with his dark past and she was too good and too undeserving of him. So he left. So he left her.

 

 

“Can you stay?” She accidentally blurted one night as he sat up, the bed creaking under his weight, their weight, and moonlight was spilling from the windows and he looked beautiful. He turned to look at her and she knew he was frustrated at her, mad at her and he made no move to speak, only dressed up, buttoning his shirt in a hurry, zipping his slacks. He was a busy man and she doesn’t deserve him, he was much too much and she was this, _only this._

“Let’s not see each other again.” She had heard him say those words before and now she knew he meant it. She only nodded, hands folded on her lap, her body sore, he had never been gentle, never, and she had always yielded and it was foolish to always yield but she might be in love and she doesn’t care.

He left without saying anything more.

 

 

Jaime was scared, frightened of what Brienne represented, of what she meant to him, of what he was willing to give to be a part of his life. He had only felt this enormity, this weight, this feeling, once, once, only for Cersei but he had been betrayed and he was afraid that he would feel the same way again.

“Jaime.”

Cersei was there in her golden beauty and kissing and kissing him. He knew she was trying again to make him leave Catelyn Stark, she knew she still had that power over him, this, her kisses, her body, her scent, all of those were enough to drive him crazy as he yielded and let his hands roam, the safety of the lateness of the hour and the desolateness of the office allowing him to drop his guard.

There was a clatter and his instinct was to pull away and he saw the wench, red in the face and standing ungainly by the door. “Sorry.”

Cersei raised a brow and tugged at his arm but something in him swelled at the stoic expression on the tall girl’s face, the quivering of her lips the only thing that betrayed her.

“I was…uh, I wanted to schedule an interview with the PM for tomorrow.” Brienne looked away, fumbled at her pen and journal, slipped everything into her bag and took a step back. “Seems I came at a bad time.”

“You certainly did. Now leave.” Cersei’s voice broke the stillness and he watched as the wench nodded apologetically, eyes casted down, turned awkwardly around on her heels, her shoulders slumped and broad. Before he knew it, he had wrenched his arm from Cersei’s hold and followed the wench into the wintry night.

 

 

“Why are you here?” Her voice echoed in the din and she fought and fought as Jaime pushed past her door into her house, past her barriers of wood and cloth and flesh. She swiped at his jaw, she had always been stronger but he was undeterred and he pushed her against the wall, against the table, against the couch as he tried to undress her and touch her where no one had ever touched her so much before (it had only been him, only him despite her foolish first time in college). She was so angry then, and another clock of his jaw sent him stumbling on the other side of the room, and she thought it was over until he was raging at her and down on the floor, her shirt torn in an instant as he cupped her center, palming her against her jeans which he had unzipped and unbuttoned roughly. His cock was straining against her stomach and she fought the want pooling between her thighs, not wanting to want him, but failing as his mouth found hers and his teeth nipped at her lower lip, demanding and strong enough to draw blood. He licked the little drop of blood on her lower lip and let his hands push against her jeans, fingers snaking past her underwear to her slick folds and she fought the shudder he so forcefully tore from her, his fingers going in circles around her nub, rubbing and caressing as she squeezed her thighs together to drive him out but her legs were reduced to jelly and she had lost strength and she _wanted_ him, so bad, so bad she felt herself yielding, tears pooling on the corners of her eyes, grieving at her foolishness, at her stupidity for wanting him despite this, despite what he was giving her, despite what he was _not_ giving her.

He was inside her, tearing and tearing her barriers down, deeper and deeper until there was nothing left of her, not pride, not honor, not love. Nothing.

 

 

Jaime looked at the ceiling, sunlight pouring in through the slightly drawn curtains. The freckled girl was asleep beside him, puffs of breath rising in the air as she let out an exhale. She had been there always, even when he was reduced to nothing when his family disowned him. She had been the first person he had told about Catelyn hiring him as his media adviser, he even joked he would be providing her exclusives, she had been happy, genuinely happy and supportive of his career move, of his efforts at getting back on his feet. But it seemed a long time ago, everything seemed to have happened in the distant past and he couldn’t remember a time when he had not thought of her as more than _this_. He was afraid, afraid of the weight of his feelings, afraid to hurt her (which was exactly what he had been doing all these times) but the wench was brave and had accepted him.

He smiled at the blooming bruise on his chin, that was one hell of a punch, no make that two, she had swiped at him twice, and the kicks to his ribs were bad enough to render him bedridden. But it seemed all those things had made his head clearer, there was an urgency with which he made love to her last night, the way her eyes dropped when she saw her with Cersei, they way it grew angry when he followed her, everything, everything as if it was a moment of epiphany or something equally profound and he knew he had understood. He was ready.

She stirred, the back of her hand covering her mouth as she yawned, the slight cut on her lip catching his sight. She looked surprised at finding him there, her initial reaction had been to move away hastily, blankets clutched around her chest and he chuckled, pulled her closer and under him, his tongue flicking briefly to touch the cut on her lip. “What are you doing here?”

“Staying.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“I think it’s time we try something new.”

She glared at him. “You’re not in any position to suggest anything.” She frowned, tried to push him away to no avail.

He smiled sadly, his hands cupping her chin, asking, asking and waiting. “I’m not. And I hope I’m not a second too late.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are love. Inspired by the song You Give Me Something by James Morrison.
> 
> You want to stay with me in the morning  
> You only hold me when I sleep  
> I was meant to tread the water  
> Now I've gotten in too deep  
> For every piece of me that wants you  
> Another piece backs away
> 
> 'Cause you give me something  
> That makes me scared, alright  
> This could be nothing  
> But I'm willing to give it a try  
> Please give me something  
> 'Cause someday I might know my heart
> 
> You already waited up for hours  
> Just to spend a little time alone with me  
> And I can say I've never bought you flowers  
> I can't work out what they mean  
> I never thought that I'd love someone  
> That was someone else's dream
> 
> 'Cause you give me something  
> That makes me scared, alright  
> This could be nothing  
> But I'm willing to give it a try  
> Please give me something  
> 'Cause someday I might call you from my heart
> 
> But it might me a second too late  
> And the words that I could never say  
> Gonna come out anyway
> 
> 'Cause you give me something  
> That makes me scared, alright  
> This could be nothing  
> But I'm willing to give it a try  
> Please give me something
> 
> 'Cause you give me something  
> That makes me scared, alright  
> This could be nothing  
> But I'm willing to give it a try  
> Please give me something  
> 'Cause someday I might know my heart  
> Know my heart, know my heart, know my heart


End file.
